the destiny

"If you want my candid honesty, I do believe that we will find it in our lifetimes... The guardian and palantir's return here is the spark... the catalyst for more to come - and the fire that will take hold is warm and life-giving. The signs of nature, and the stars themselves, show hope for the Dúnedain." As much as they show destruction, she did not say. Even a young druid should know fire was devastation too. She looked over to him. "And if you or I are needed for this journey, then Fate will bring us there to help." Her brows furrowed. "But I can see you are very eager. I think you need you to focus on your healing energy and we will put ceremonies and dreams to one side for now... As important as our history and culture is, and your own unique destiny within the dream realm, you cannot be this ambitious for danger, Ramesses, and not be more prepared for harm to come to you and those in your care. Life is as delicate as it is precious."

"Oh I'm– I'm not ambitious." In fact, Ramesses hated being known as a coward. He hadn't fought in the frontlines of Aventia. No, he'd stayed behind the walls, soothing the dying instead. It was Althea and others like her that had stepped forward to be brave, to take on the Blight, and to come out alive. The dream druid wished he could be braver, wished he could understand more than what he currently did, but he also understood other parts: that perhaps he'd need to wait. But they couldn't do that, not forever. "I think the stones in Ankhuria are – well, I think they're being hidden."

He put his chin in his hands, looking around the dreamscape now as he took in the shifting landscapes. It was much nicer than simply sitting in his room. But even now, he was simply meditating, meeting Fharzai half way. "Do you get what I'm saying? You've been in Mannanan's presence. What did he say?"

"I suspected early on it might be the case, that someone would need to sacrifice themselves." Althea should have done it herself, taken the Blight, and let the others go but she'd been unable to take that step alone and was justifiably fearful that she was not strong enough alone. "Would you have done it differently if the choice were yours?" She felt inclined to ask if he'd have done things differently at all. "Would you have left..? Undertaken it alone?"

In the grove, Althea made what measured steps remained between the two of them to lay her hand gently against his cheek. "I've seen His armies, felt His hatred." The Calling was not the least of their concerns, but living even the next twenty or thirty years came with a great deal of obstacles. There was a time when she might have cowered behind status or the Tower, instead, she was resolved. "Wherever you go, I'll follow."

She looked around, briefly, and commented, "This is new."

Heat flushed to Ramesses' cheeks when Althea's hand rested against it. Was there ever a time he didn't blush around her? Probably not, but she was intimidating. "I'm still going to figure it out, Althea. I'm going to try." The druid gave a small smile, though his eyes brightened slightly as he got the chance to explain something to her for once. "In the Feywilds. They've come back. A cult was trying to use its power but...they've been restored. I think another has, too, but...I'm not sure where. I had a dream." Ramesses turned now, "Are you at Caer Glas? Or Haven?" Where can I see you?

"I hope that Fate will allow me the honor of seeing all the Stones restored to their former glory, one day, including the ones at Hestia's Cove. Only the bravest of souls could ever venture out to make this happen. Yet, it is not as simple as that either." She smiled at him. "You are eager, but you mustn't let that get the best of you. Sometimes you need to be willing to let things happen at their own pace." She gazed back to the Guardian. "And rejoice in what you've already been given."

He knew that Sakkara was telling him the ancient old proverb of good things come to those who wait, yet considering the Cult was zeroing in on these things, well, Ramesses didn't think they had much time to wait. "Do you think we'll be able to find other palantír?"

"There was an incident while Aradia and I were investigating disappearances in the Wildlands. We brought a few others with us for good measure: Aurea, Freydis, Thora, and Zeliha, but the trail led us into the Lostlands. To a temple that had contracted the Blight." There was a thoughtful beat as she looked at the dreamer, aware then of how difficult it was to tell the man that where they should've had at least another sixty years at least, suddenly Althea potentially had far less. "We were able to purify the spirit within, but it came with a cost. One Aradia, Thora, and I paid."

He didn't know the names, not well at least, but he thought of a temple that had been Blighted – powerful magic and a weakened veil. Althea's words sunk in as he realized what he hadn't been able to see before, visions of her dreams, of the Legion, "You had to take the Joining." His heart clutched in his chest, but there was no time for sadness. Her sacrifice would not be cheapened by Ramesses fear of the Calling taking her, he couldn't let that happen. Yet still, it segued into something that made Ramesses' eyes light up, "Althea – I went to the Tower. I went to research how I could...how I could help the Legion. The Blight, the Calling – if I could get into those parts of your dream, towards the Calling, I was going to...I was going to see if I could help block it. If we could stop the calling, the Legion would get more than twenty...thirty years...before...."

Riandur had encountered a liche not too long ago, the Legion of the Dead was fond of its secrets but Althea was adept at pulling gossip from the stones of Caer Glas Keep.

"Over here, my love." Althea called, several texts hung open and suspended in the air as she turned each over page by page. She had no intention of being taken by the Calling, her mind was and always would be her own. Beyond that, there was a darker intention - Danaro's, Ecelrich - where they had fallen prey to the whims of the Dark One, Althea would succeed. "Tread lightly, I wandered rather close this time."

"Althea...what's happened?" Ramesses almost didn't wish to know the answer, the idea being too close to what he'd seen and felt within the walls of Aventia. He'd calmed the dying, those infected by the blight creeping under their skin and towards their hearts. Not all could take the joining and survive, so they got some peace in the end instead. The druid stopped behind her, despite the fact that he wanted to reach out. He clutched the staff with both of his hands, leaning on it slightly, "What are you looking for?"

“These soldiers could have joined the legion, if they were going to die anyway why not let them take the joining?” All were most likely far to weak to survive but the pain from the joining that’s the way the deserved to die. “To die here is a waste. I believe unless you can provide all with a peaceful death none should have it.” Well realistically none of them should have peace in death, they should all fall into the abyss.

"Some wounds can't be healed by the Joining. It does not cure fatal wounds," he murmured quietly, though there wasn't any judgement in his tone. And though who was to say they would even survive the Joining? "The Joining is said to take from you – I don't think any of these wounded would survive it." He listened to the other's opinion, but it was not Ramesses' place to argue it. "I will do what I can for who I can. My mind won't be changed."

"So noble of you." Her comment was loosely veiled but genuine, Ramesses went where he was needed though why he'd follow this made her think that perhaps she'd missed something. "Sounds dangerous though, you aren't worried that walking toward the Blight - " Althea gestured to the dreamscape around them, "even here, won't lead to your own corruption?" Ramesses was a dream druid, one of the blessed and rare few - from the Olympian's measure, the pattern couldn't afford to lose many more of its defenders.

"Aren't you worried? You're there, closer than I also will be. I think that's room for worry," he said finally, though he didn't wish to be too overwhelming. After all, the druid was always nervous he'd say something wrong and be pushed out before he'd gotten a chance to listen to her long enough.

"At Nornwatch we saw what befalls the diseased. That Joining or a quick blade across the throat would be kinder than this." Alrik kept his distance, arms folded across his barreled chest as he looked with some discontent at the creature. The food, the water, and the land itself were contaminated. "The longer this siege goes on, the more sure the darkspawn's victory becomes."

"Are you injured?"

"Students and their secrets, I suppose we'll never know." With a gesture, his cup was filled. Althea wouldn't begrudge the recurrence, nor would she ever admit to her part in all of it. Tomorrow night she'd rally with the warriors she'd assembled alongside Aurea to investigate the attacks on the countryside. Soon, a force would march toward Aventia to help defend it - such was the will of the Alpha and Queen. "Improving with every passing moment."

Althea knew of Ramesses's plans to head to Aventia, his road from Ankhuria to Lysara was long and arduous. Maferath was on the other side of their world and Taravell was not easily traversed - even for one such as he. This... Entanglement of theirs was sure to end at some point, Althea wasn't the sort of frivolous person who'd get lost in a dream. But it was a very sweet one. Here she wasn't a farmer's daughter or a girl from nowhere, she was simply blessed with good company in a world they could freely design. That was the power Althea had long craved - freedom.

"Tell me, is this rest afforded from finally arriving in Aventia, or are you still traveling?"

"I'm passing through Lysara, nearly there, you know. Aventia isn't really a place for me – but I think it should be." He set the cup down after a moment, knowing that he was skirting around the ideas that were tumbling around in his mind. He wanted to tell Althea; he always wanted to tell Althea. "I stopped at the tower to study what the Legion dreams of. If I can get into their dreams, follow them and see what they see – maybe I can see through the Blight that muddles their psyche. If I could think of some way to...hold off what makes them hear the calling. I think I could do it."

Not being able to help in the way he would like in this battle Jurgen was out to find another way of feeding his dark urges. The medical tent that was a place to start. All the solider on the verge of death, he couldn’t let them pass, it why he walked up to the man who seemed to be dolling out mercy. That couldn’t happen the wounded needed hope that they will make it out of here only for those who have been trying to help them leave them behind when the darkspawn came flooding over those walls.

Tutting as he approached “you think I’d let you touch me after what you just did? This is just one siege, the war won’t be won or lost here. But that man could have lived, shame you were his judge, jury and executioner.”

"When you die with the blight in you, it's...painful," he explained after a minute, looking at the now deceased soul in front of him. "You have awful dreams – I gave him a better one before death took him. We all deserve peace in the end. And this one more than others, I think. To die here – he'll be burned, and I can only hope his family will remember him."